Careful Planning
by Nonnihil Scelestus
Summary: George has a plan that involves Rube doing the talking for once, and not about how to be a good little reaper either. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I dont own. I just play.

Careful Planning

Chapter 1

When Rube came back, he was different. It wasn't an obvious difference. He was still snappish and still had the same look about him, but sometimes, when things got quiet, he would get a faraway look in his eyes. George noticed immediately. She couldn't help but notice because she was in love with him, not that she'd ever tell him that, especially not when he was so disappointed with her. Daisy, Roxy, and Mason, had taken it upon themselves to tell Rube about Trip, when he got back from wherever he went. And since George wasn't on speaking terms with the three rats, and Rube was not himself, she had very little to say and lots to observe. Of course if Rube had been himself, he might have noticed that there was more behind her and Trip, than what he had been told, because if George knew how to do one thing, it was keep a secret. And since the other three reapers had decided to talk to Rube behind her back, well then she didn't say anything about her real motivations for her night in jail, except to Delores, who would take her secret to the grave. She hadn't been arrested because of Trip. She could care less about the little fucker. He had simply been a convenient cover for her. She had been upset about Rube. And now that he was back, he was different.

George thought that maybe he needed time for whatever was bothering him to pass. She'd done a significant about if growing up in the two years since she'd become a reaper. That didn't mean that she was cured of her lapses in judgment. Trip was obvious proof of that. It just meant she'd gotten better at waiting. So she tried to wait him out, which should have been her first clue that maybe she needed to do something, because it was Rube, and nobody could outwait Rube.

At first she thought to wait a week, but when the week passed, she decided that two might be better. She couldn't decide if it was more for Rube's benefit, or if she was just being a chicken shit. It was hard for her not to say anything sometimes, when she was feeling a little more bold than usual. Sometimes she wanted to just walk up to him and say 'What the fuck, Rube?' and have done with it. Those moments were almost like a physical ache. But she held off, in her mind giving him time to tell them what was going on. At the end of week two, Mason pulled her to the side and told her to do something because Rube was scaring him shitless. He was too nice, and too forgiving, like he'd stopped caring that Mason was a fuck up. George raised an eyebrow and told him to get lost. Since she'd forgiven Roxy, for the most part, for telling Rube about Trip, she talked to the older reaper about the difference in Rube. Roxy had also agreed to wait it out, and see if he might talk to her. But neither of them was ready to disturb Rube's silence. The both knew he needed more time.

At the end of week three, Daisy told her to talk to him, as he was starting to give her the creeps. It was the same complaint Mason had given, he was too nice, and he didn't seem to care anymore. Again she waited, even though it was practically killing her. Not long after that, Daisy moved in with Mason, leaving George with the house all to herself. She'd hoped that the new living situation between the two reapers would spark some kind of reaction from him, but Rube didn't even bat an eyelash when Roxy told him. He just nodded and said he figured it would happen eventually.

When a month had passed, even Roxy had tried to talk to him, to no avail, and George felt that if she didn't say something, she would explode. But she wasn't sure she could out stare him like he did with her, until she caved. So she tried a different approach. She waited until everyone left their usual haunt at Der Waffle Haus, for work or reaps. Then she suddenly had Rube all to herself and was slightly unsure of what to say when he was eyeing her so suspiciously.

"Are you going to ask if I'm ok, as well?" Rube questioned over the top of his newspaper.

"No. I was just enjoying my coffee and the quiet." She answered. He 'hmphed' and went back to the paper. He pretended to read but she knew he was lost in his thoughts, or still trying to figure her out, as he never turned the pages. "Rube?" She called for his attention.

"Yes, George?" He already sound exasperated, like he was doing her an immense favor, just by speaking to her.

"Will you be my guinea pig?" If she hadn't been so worried about getting to the bottom of what was bothering him, then his expression would have been comical.

"Your what?" The look he gave her said that she better explain herself quickly or she was going to be in a world of hurt. It was a look he usually reserved for Mason, and though she'd been on the receiving end before, it was infrequent.

"Guinea pig. I've been trying out my cooking skills since I've had the house to myself, but I don't really know what I'm doing and I need someone to poison." She said it deadpan, like she said most things, and for a moment she thought he might believe her.

"No."

"I was kidding about the poison part."

"Answer is still no. I don't want to be a guinea pig."

"So don't be a guinea pig, but come to dinner anyway."

"I'm not entirely happy with you right now, George. I don't think I can do that."

"So! I'm not too fucking happy with you either, but I still want you to come over and have dinner with me." He studied her for a moment.

"Is this your way of asking if I'm ok, because what the fuck, Peanut? I thought you weren't going to ask."

"I said I wouldn't! Besides I know you're not ok. I've known that since you came back from wherever you went. And what do you mean, 'What the fuck'? Don't I get to care?" He just stared at her before frowning slightly, almost like he couldn't decide what to say to her. She guessed he wasn't going to say anything when he got up and tossed some cash onto the table to cover his breakfast. He stood beside the table, looking down at her and for a few minutes she understood what it felt like to be a specimen under a microscope.

"Will you leave me alone if I say yes?" He asked finally. She looked thoughtful for a moment, contemplating how to answer his question.

"I will leave you alone today, if you agree to come to dinner tonight, and actually show up. I make no promises for future days." She replied with a smirk, which was as close to a smile as she would come on the best of days. He sighed in irritation but nodded in acceptance.

"Deal. What time?"

"Seven?"

"That's fine, Peanut." He turned and walked out of Der Waffle Haus without a backward glance.

"That man, sometimes it seems he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders." She hadn't heard or seen Kiffany approach until the waitress spoke. "About time someone helped him with his burden." She gave George a pointed look and walked off before she could formulate an appropriate thought. She decided that Kiffany's words didn't need a response, got up, paid for her portion of the bill, and left. She had plans to implement and they required that she do some shopping.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 2

Seven rolled around faster than she thought it would, and while she was dressed in some nicer clothes, her dinner wasn't turning out quite like she wanted.

"Well, fuck you Rachel Ray, and your tetrazzini too." George muttered to herself as she tried to salvage dinner.

She really had been trying to learn to cook, but she hadn't had any hands on experience and her Mother, a decent cook, wasn't a particularly imaginative kitchen operator. George had tried a few cooking shows, but she hadn't been successful in making anything that looked remotely like what had been on TV, at least when it came to meals. Desserts she could handle. Cookies and cupcakes especially. They were easy. She was almost scared that Rube would take one look at her in the kitchen, laugh and walk out before she had a chance to talk to him about anything. She was interrupted a moment later, when her doorbell rang.

"Shit." She muttered to herself again, as she self-consciously brushed off her clothes before answering the door.

Rube was there, dressed in a nice black shirt and slacks. It was good to see him in something other than his sweaters or jacket and odd shirts. She liked the sweaters though, especially his white one, not that she'd tell him that.

"Are you going to invite me in, or are we having a picnic on the porch?" His sharp comment brought her attention back to where it was supposed to be, but for once she didn't have a snippy comment to reply with.

"Come in." She stepped aside and he entered, giving her a quick questioning glance, which she missed, before looking around the house. She didn't think he'd ever been there.

"So what's for dinner?" He asked once he'd taken in his surroundings.

"Well, small hitch in my cooking plans, so what sounds good? And we'll order in."

"You said you were going to make me dinner."

"I also said I was only joking about poisoning you. I had a hitch in my dinner plans. I didn't take into account how fucking inept I am in a kitchen when it comes to something other than cookies or cupcakes. So what would you…" She paused as he sighed and started to roll up his sleeves. "What are you doing?"

"If you wanted a cooking lesson, all you had to do was ask." She stared at him dumbfounded for a moment before picking her jaw up off the floor.

"Um…ok." She followed him into the kitchen and watched him survey the inedible mess she'd created.

"What were you trying to make?" He sounded entirely too patient and it was making her nervous.

"I don't know some fancy dish off one of those cooking shows. Tetrazzini or something. What can I say, if it's not some form of dessert, I'm really fucking bad in the kitchen."

"You need to start with something simple and work your way up to fancy. You like lasagna."

"Yeah. I was going to try making it sometime this week."

"Even better." He wandered around her kitchen picking up various items and transferring them to the island countertop after dumping her mess into the sink.

They made dinner together. Rube was especially patient, something she both loved and was scared of. He didn't snap at her or call her a fuck-up. In fact his language was rather subdued, which cooled hers as well. It was almost paternal. That thought stopped her in her tracks. That was exactly what she didn't want from him. She had a father. She didn't need a fucking parent. She didn't want to him to feel anything remotely father like for her, not when she was in love with him.

Rube turned to look at her because she'd stopped moving so suddenly and had gone silent. The frown on her face had him wondering what he'd done to piss her off now. Sometimes he just couldn't keep up with her thought processes, and as far as he could tell, he hadn't said anything insulting all evening.

"What's the matter, Peanut?" He asked finally, watching as he was suddenly fixed with a hard glare.

"Stop calling me that." Her tone brooked no argument, but he couldn't understand what brought it on, and where it had come from. And it hurt a little too if he wanted to be honest.

"Why? I've always called you Peanut." Her glare didn't soften at all. It narrowed a bit, and he began to feel uncomfortable with the look. She had to explain or he was going to lose his temper. He tried to be calm because with George, that was usually the best approach, but she could also try his patience like no other.

"Because I'm NOT a child. I am NOT your child. I am Not some poor unfortunate stray that you need to parent to feel better about yourself." For a moment he felt like someone had sucker punched him in the gut.

"Ok, but I like to call you Peanut."

"Why? Because I remind you of someone? Well I can guess who and I'm not her, nor will I ever be her. I can't be her. I won't be your daughter Rube, not when I feel…" She trailed off, not willing to finish her sentence. She cursed herself silently, berating herself over her almost slip of the tongue. She wasn't ready for him to know that secret and he wasn't ready to hear it. Their dinner together was supposed to be about him, not her, and she'd gone and fucked things up again.

"You feel what, George? What do you feel when I call you Peanut?" His voice rose in volume. She was making him lose his temper faster than either of them anticipated. And because he was so good at getting her to cave when she was angry, and he knew it, he continued to push her buttons. "What do you feel, Georgia?" The use of her proper name was the final straw.

"I feel perverted when you call me Peanut because no daughter should, or would, feel the way I feel about you. And I'm tired of you thinking you can use me as a replacement for her, Rube. I am not your daughter, and I don't want to be." She blurted it out. The look on his face was priceless, and had the moment been a funny one, she'd have been happily wishing for a camera right about then, but it wasn't funny. It was sad, and heartbreaking, and horrible, and tense, and scary, and fucking painful. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion and not being able to do a damn thing about it. He stood there staring at her in shock. "Fuck!" She exclaimed and walked into the living room to hide in the nook between the couch and the window, while he pulled it together.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 3

Rube was in shock over her words as he watched her turn and run from the room. Her sharp parting word brought him out of his stupor but he couldn't bring himself to go after her just yet. He was still processing the words she'd said before that. He didn't think that she'd meant to say what she did. She probably hadn't planned on telling him about her feelings at all. She was too good at masking her real emotions and hiding things, even from him, and he knew her better than anyone else did, even her parents in her former life. But he hadn't seen this coming. He felt like a freight train had just hit him square in the chest. It hurt like fucking hell, and he couldn't see his way around it. He took a few more minutes to absorb her words because they had come out of the blue to him. He had to run it through is mind another time before he was sure he had heard her and caught her meaning.

The kid…no, he couldn't think of her like that anymore, not after the bomb she'd just dropped on him. No, George, didn't want to be called Peanut, because she felt perverted by her feelings when he called her that. That meant she didn't want him to feel paternal toward her. She wasn't interested in having a father figure, she wanted a….lover. He sighed as the word rang through his mind. His thoughts turned to the guy she'd gotten herself arrested over. She had wanted him and he wasn't there so she turned to a guy who was convenient. He sighed again and looked wonderingly at the living room she had disappeared into. He was such a fucking idiot to have not seen this before. She was young and beautiful. She hadn't experience sex or love in life, hadn't had time, and she was still looking for it in her afterlife. She just didn't know how to find it. So went and fell in love with him, someone who represented safety, strength, and companionship, and someone who understood her. And when he hadn't been there, she tried to find it with someone else and had her feelings hurt by both of them.

"Oh, George, we've both fucked things up this time." He muttered as he stood up. It was time to find her and have a chat.

He walked into the living room and looked around. It was softly lit and at first he didn't see her. He stopped and looked again, listening for her too. He heard a soft sighing hiccough coming from behind the couch and went to investigate. There was George, hiding the best way she knew how, knees to her chest, blanket around her doing her best to be quiet while she sobbed her heart out into a pillow, in the smallest space she could find and still be able to breathe. He squatted down beside her and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face, but she shied away. She hadn't done that in a long time, and that hurt almost as much as her words had earlier.

"Will you come out then, because there isn't enough room for two of us back here?" He asked, hoping to get some response from her, even it if was just a 'fuck off'. She looked up at him then. She had tear tracks running down her face, the little mascara and eyeliner she'd bothered with making black smudges under her eyes. She studied him briefly then nodded. He stood and held out a hand to help her up. He was a little surprised when she took it, as he half expected her to bat it away and follow it with the expected 'fuck off', but she didn't. Even though she'd tried to hide, this was a more grown up George than he was used to seeing. She'd been growing up before his eyes and he hadn't bothered to notice until she pushed him into it. He brought her around to sit on the couch, rather than behind it.

"We need to talk, sweetheart." He said softly, as though he was doing his level best to be calm and not scare her. She glanced up at him briefly and got the impression he was acting like he was dealing with a wild animal.

"Yes we do. " She said equally as soft.

"You dropped a bomb on me, and I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"What's there to fucking unsure about? You either feel the same way or you don't. You either love me like your daughter or you love me like a friend, or you want me to be a lover. Those are your choices."

"But that's the problem George. I feel the first two, but until you said something, I'd never even considered the third as an option. I don't know how to wrap my mind around it. I don't know what you want from me, sweetheart." He looked at her sadly and she sighed in resignation. She felt a hollow ache start in her chest and wondered briefly had she been alive; could she die from a broken heart?

"Nothing, Rube. I don't want anything from you. Just forget it. Just pretend I never said anything. I'm sorry I said anything at all. I'll see you tomorrow." And there was the grown up acceptance of his words at face value. She didn't try to argue, like the old George would have. She just let it go. And he felt like he'd just kicked a puppy.

"Sweetheart…." He started but she waved him off.

"I get it. You don't have to say. I understand." He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face and stood up to leave. He couldn't seem to make her understand that he just needed some more time to process this change in his way of seeing her. But she wouldn't let him. She was pushing him away, giving him the distance that he thought only moments ago, that he needed. He was at a loss. It wasn't all that different from the beginning of her time as a reaper. He hadn't known what to do with her then either.

"George, please, you don't understand…." She stopped him mid-sentence.

"I understand perfectly. I think you need to leave now. I'll see you tomorrow Rube." He opened his mouth to say something, anything to get her to let him stay, but nothing came out. So he did as she asked and left, letting the door close softly behind him. He leaned against it for a moment to gather himself before heading home. It was going to be a long fucking night for both of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 4

George waited until she was sure Rube had left, listening for the start of his truck and the sound of the engine fading into the night. The night she had planned had not come to pass. She'd gotten in her own way yet again. She still had no idea what was bothering Rube, and now she had added another worry to his already overburdened shoulders. She could fucking kick herself for her stupidity.

The sound of the timer on the oven brought her out of her thoughts. Not only had she dumped her mess on Rube, but she'd completely forgotten about dinner as well, not that she was hungry anymore. She wandered into the kitchen to take the lasagna out of the oven and left it on the stove top to cool. Her pace and stance betrayed her every emotion at that point and she wished for someone to talk to, like her Betty, or Delores, hell even her mother would do at that moment. But there was no one there, and the one person that she talked to when there was no one else, had just walked out her door because she couldn't keep herself in check. She felt the tears start up again.

Looking around the kitchen she saw little touches that made her think of him. The way the lasagna smelled, how her spices were lined up in a row, how the dishes were rinsed and in the dishwasher ready to be washed. It was too much and she darted back into the living room. But he was there too. A small indent left in the couch, the pillows shoved to one side so he could sit next to her, the folded blanket across the back of the couch. She could even smell a faint trace of him, something warm, masculine, clean, and undeniably Rube. She darted into her bedroom in the hopes that she could be alone with her thoughts, but he followed her in there as well, mocking her when she sat on the edge of her empty bed and imagined for a moment what it would be like to lay in it with him next to her, the feel of his arms wrapped around her securely, his lips pressing kisses to her hair, her lips, her neck, making love to him.

George shot up and started shucking off her clothes. She was going for a run. There was no other way she could clear her head of him. She needed to do something physical or she was going to break down and cry yet again. She dressed in exercise pants and a tank top, grabbing a sweat jacket from the hook by the front door and her keys. She started off down the street at a light jog, but Rube was still with her, keeping pace with her stride like he was really there. Before she knew it, she was running full tilt through the night, no destination in mind, but to out run the feel of the man she loved, but who didn't love her in return.

She didn't know how long she ran until she reached the pier. It was the last place she'd seen Betty before she'd piggy backed in the Great Whatever. She stopped at the edge, her breath coming in ragged pants. She gazed up and around. She didn't really expect Betty to be there, but the need for another person was so great that she went to the last place she'd seen her friend. But Betty wasn't there. There was nothing there but the black water looming out in front of her and the lights in the distance reflecting off of it. She turned and started to run back the way she came. She felt a little like Forrest Gump. She really didn't have the next destination in mind either, but when she came to a stop outside of Delores' apartment, she had to wonder what brought her there. Sure Delores was a friend, probably the best friend she had at the moment, and she did need to talk to someone, but would she really understand? She didn't think so but at that moment, she would have to. George rang the apartment and waited. She tried again, but still nothing. Delores either wasn't answering the door or wasn't home. Yet another empty place with no room for George. So she started off again. This time she knew where she was going. There was only one person left that she trusted enough to talk about things like what was happening.

After being out in the night, Der Waffle Haus seemed abnormally bright to her eyes. She looked around for Kiffany, but didn't see her. She caught another waitress by the elbow as she walked passed and asked if she was working that night. No, came the answer George didn't want to hear. She said thank you and walked back out into the darkness. She didn't think that she'd ever felt as alone as that moment. So she walked home, a sad slump to her shoulders.

It was nearing midnight when she climbed up the stairs of her front porch and found herself in the house she'd run from. His presence had dissipated for the most part. She stripped out of her sweaty clothes and dumped them in the hamper. She stepped into the shower to rinse off, but the warm water did nothing to soothe her. She felt the tears come, silent at first, then heart and gut wrenching sobs. She loved him, why the fuck couldn't he see that? Why couldn't he just tell her what was wrong with him? Why did she have to fucking die? Why? The questions rang through her head, the 'why's' becoming a mantra to her existence. And when she finally managed to crawl out of the shower and dry herself off, before falling boneless into bed, she wondered why her, why did she have to be the one to fall in love with Rube?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 5

Rube didn't know what to do. He left George because she'd asked him to leave, but now he didn't know what to do with himself. He was confused, and angry, and upset. He wasn't angry with her, but with himself. She had only contributed the confusion. He drove around for a little while, trying to make some sense of everything, but all he did was mix things up more and he was too antsy to go home and sit. He didn't really have many friends to talk to. Sure he could have talked to Roxy, and he was sure she would have listened, but he didn't think she would understand his confusion or help him sort it out. She just wasn't patient enough for that. And he'd be damned if he'd talk to Mason or Daisy. That only left one person, and for a moment he really wished Betty was still with him. She had been a great friend to him over the years. But Penny was a good friend too and she was patient and would listen to him, or just sit with him in silence if that's what he needed.

He stopped by the hospital first to see if she was on duty. She didn't usually work nights, but it didn't hurt to check. The nurse on duty said that her shift had ended a few hours ago and that she'd gone home. He thanked her and made his way to Penny's house.

She looked at him knowingly when she opened the door. It wasn't often she found Rube on her doorstep, and if he was, it was with good reason. She waved him in, and sat him down in her living room. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts enough to put together a coherent sentence.

"She confuses me so much, Penny. I don't know what to do with her." He said quietly, the tiredness in his voice showing more than usual.

"I assume you mean George." He nodded but didn't say anything more, so she continued. "What did she do this time?" He raised his eyes to meet hers and she saw pain, and wonder, and heartbreak, and shock, all in the same moment.

"She fell in love." She didn't know how to respond to that so she studied him. The set of his shoulders said he was tired. The look in his dark eyes said that he was surprised at whom George had fallen in love with, but the sadness made her think it was someone inappropriate and she had a good idea who it was.

"Who did she fall in love with?" She asked. The answer she got was exactly the one she was expecting.

"Me." That one word brought home everything that George had said, and everything he felt, and everything he wanted but couldn't have.

"Ah. I was afraid of that." She smiled knowingly.

"What do you mean?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"I've talked with George a few times since that day she had the reap in the hospital. I saw it coming then. That young woman fell in love with you. It's not hard to see why. You're handsome, you're intelligent, you're a gentleman first and foremost, and even though she pisses you off, or disappoints you, you still care about what happens to her. You've given her more since she's been dead than she had in her whole living life."

"But wouldn't a father have given her those same things?"

"Yes and no. She didn't need a father. She needed a friend. And she crossed the line into love while you were deliberately trying to classify her as child to your parent. She loves you very much Rube. It's why she hates to tell you when she messes something up. She doesn't want to ruin your friendship or what she sees as her chances. She doesn't want to disappoint you. She doesn't want you to take away everything that you've given her the way the rest of her family has. "

"I love her, Penny, I do. As a friend, most definitely, as a daughter, maybe a little. But I don't know how to love her like she wants me to love her. I'm not sure I can. I'm old Penny, even before I died; I was old by her standards. Now I'm even older even though I haven't physically aged. I'm 130 years old…."He trailed off.

"Is age the only thing that is holding you back? Because she's always going to look like she's 18? What happens when she's 50 or 150? She's still going to look 18 but it's not about looks Rube, it's about maturity, and I've seen that in George, more so than the rest of your team, with the exception of Roxy. And this is George we're talking about. She doesn't undertake things on a whim. If she says she loves you, she means it. And she's not going to change her mind either. Once she chooses a course of action it's nearly impossible to steer her away from it without good cause. You've seen than much when she messes up."

"It's not about age, or maturity. I know that in reality she's 20 and that's she grown up significantly since she first became a reaper. I see that every day. But she said something to me when I asked her about her feelings. She had told me to stop calling her Peanut, because it makes her feel perverted, because she's not my daughter and no daughter should feel the way she does about me. But I feel the same way, a little bit, because she's so young and I've tried to look at her like she's my daughter for long enough that it's hard to look at her another way. I love her; there is no doubt about that. I just don't…I just don't know what to do."

"Whether you love her like a daughter, or like a friend, or like a lover, you are going to have to decide on your own and you are going to have to tell her how you feel. I can't clarify it any more than I have, and I can't make the decision for you."

"I know Penny. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now get out of here. I have an early shift in the morning." And for the second time that night, Rube found himself on a doorstep heading out into the night, this time to his own apartment.

He lay in his bed, letting his mind wander over the conversation with Penny, but the one thought that stood out was that George loved him. And somewhere in the early morning hours, when he had finally settled into the hazy gray area between wakefulness and sleep, he realized that George loving him was enough.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 6

When she woke to the light hitting her directly in the face, she hadn't planned on falling out of bed. Of course, the painful feeling of a shaft of sunlight to the eyes after a night of crying her eyes out, felt about the same as a shaft of sunlight during a hangover, painful. So she'd tried to get away from it in the quickest way possible, getting up and closing the curtains, which is how she landed with a soft thud on the floor beside the bed. It was a great way to start the morning. She glanced at the time, and swore. It was nearly 9 and she was late. At least it was Saturday, which meant no Happy Time, but she still had to face Rube.

Rube. The name gave her pause as she attempted to stumble into the bathroom to make herself at least semi presentable for the day. She combed her tangled hair before deciding a ponytail would have to do because after sleeping on it wet, there was no salvaging it. She splashed some cold water on her face to wake up and to clean the tear tracks from her face. No amount of makeup would correct the puffiness of her eyes or how bloodshot they looked. She tossed on some jeans and a t-shirt, stepped into her running shoes, gathered her wallet, keys and leather jacket and was out the door in a flash.

It was a pleasant day, so she put the top down on the Mustang and cruised at a controlled pace to Der Waffle Haus. Her outer self was calm and collected, emotionless. But her inner self was in turmoil. She wasn't sure she could face Rube. A honk behind her brought her back to the present and the green light waiting for her to go through it. She turned into the parking lot, parked and sat for a few minutes. She was going to have to face him sometime. She might as well do it now. She got out of the car and entered the restaurant. Daisy and Mason were already gone. Roxy was standing, about to make her exit as well. But Rube was still there reading his newspaper as though nothing had happened.

Roxy glared at her for being late and she had the childish urge to stick her tongue out, but resisted. She had more important things to deal with. Rube for instance, had looked up and was watching her with keen interest. She sat across from him, gingerly, as though she might bolt at any moment. Kiffany appeared a moment later with some coffee. George smile, glad she didn't even have to ask, because she wasn't sure she could trust her voice at that moment. She sipped cautiously as she kept her eyes on Rube. And for the second time she got the impression he was looking at a wild animal about to bolt and wondered what that said about her.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't mean to spring that on you. I had actually meant to have a nice dinner with you, and for you to tell me what was bothering you. I never meant to turn things back to me, but I did what I always do, and it was poor George time. So, yeah, um….I'm sorry." She said quietly. It was almost a whisper and at first he had to strain to hear her over the din of the other tables.

"It's ok George. I understand. Well, not entirely, but….Anyway. I know what you were trying to do and I'm glad you took the time to bother. About the other thing though, we still need to talk about that." And there was the George he knew, rolling her eyes and avoiding the subject. He hoped for a moment that she wouldn't entirely grow out of that. It was kind of endearing.

"Can we talk about something else first, at least until I've had my second cup of coffee." He smiled a little at that, and nodded. She wasn't very coherent before her first cup, and from the look of things she'd had a night, not unlike his own, rough.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"What's been bugging you?" He should have realized that she would come back to that.

"The package I had the other day, with the old money in it. I sent that to my daughter for her and her mother. It ties to how I died. We were having financial difficulties. There was never enough money to go around for all the things we needed. So I picked up a gun, and the day I said goodbye to my Rosie, I robbed a bank and died. I tried to send the money to them to help out, but it never got there. That's why I was so upset. And why I went away. I wanted to find out why it hadn't made it to them. I looked up the records for my wife and for Rosie. She's in a hospital just outside of Seattle. She's 86, George. My little girl is dying." She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. It was the only comfort she knew how to offer. He wrapped his much larger hand around hers, holding it gently.

"I'm sorry Rube." 'And I made it worse' echoed in the space between them, unsaid but thought by her.

"It's ok, sweetheart. You didn't know and I wasn't ready to say anything. Probably wouldn't have said anything." They sat quietly for a while longer, letting the sounds of the diner ebb and flow around them, the smell of waffles wafting over to them from a table on the other side of the divider. George finished off her second cup of coffee and let go of his hand. She moved to the other side of the booth to sit next to him. He was a little surprised, but welcomed the change. This time she took the lead.

"I guess we still need to talk about the other thing then." He nodded. She thought about just launching into it, how she had wanted to tell him, not how it had come out the night before, but he beat her to it.

"Why me, George? Why would you fall in love with me?" It was a question she had asked herself last night when she'd been trying to calm down and fall asleep, but there were so many reasons why and she wasn't sure if she should give voice to all of them, or even if she could.

"I fell in love with you because you cared enough about me. I know I frustrated you, disappointed you, made you angry, but I couldn't have done those things if you didn't care, and the amazing thing is that you never stopped caring." He opened his mouth to say something, but she put her fingers over his lips and silenced him. "I'm not finished." At his nod she continued. "I fell in love with you because you're strong, you're smart, you're handsome, you understand me better than anyone else, and you make me feel safe, and beautiful, and smart. I don't know why but you seem to like my sense of humor, and I like yours. And everything about me feels right when I'm with you."

"But you don't like me to call you Peanut." She frowned.

"No, Rube, Peanut confuses me." He nodded like he was agreeing with her statement.

"Peanut confuses me too. Truth is sweetheart; I got to thinking about you like a daughter so that I wouldn't think of you like a lover. Didn't want to come across as a dirty old man. I tried to be friend too, so that I wouldn't want more. I didn't think I deserved more. You're very special Georgia, and I really don't think I deserve you. But I do love you, very much, never doubt that."

"But do you love me like I love you, Rube? Can you love me like I want to be loved?"

"I asked myself that same question. Pulled all my doubts and worries and objections into the light and examined them. Then I realized something, you loving me was enough. I didn't need any other reason or excuse or justification. You are enough and I love you."

"I love you too, Rube." He leaned in a placed a gentle kiss on her lips. It didn't take long for the kiss deepen and they were having a full on make out session in their booth at Der Waffle Haus. A soft clearing of a throat made them jump apart, blushing with guilty looks on their faces. Kiffany was smiling at them.

"Now as happy as I am about the two of you, this isn't the place for that. Do you two need anything more than coffee this morning?" She looked at George who looked at Rube. Rube shook his head, and George thought for a moment. What she was hungry for wasn't food.

"No thanks, Kiffany. We're good. We'll take the bill now too." She answered with a smile. Kiffany nodded and laid their check on the table. She smiled at them one last time.

"You too look good together. I always thought so." George smiled at her, a full George smile, with teeth and everything, a great gift to anyone, and turned back to Rube.

"Do we have any reaps today?" George asked, suddenly realizing she missed the handing out of assignments.

"You and I don't, the rest did. Let's get out of here though. I want to take you somewhere so we can continue my original thought." And she didn't have to be a genius to figure out what that thought was.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 7

Rube took George back to his place. He knew that they would have time to be alone without interruptions there. She'd been over once, but that was it, so she took the time to look around and really take in where he lived. It was small, cozy, and undeniably Rube. He draped their jackets on the coat rack and just watched her for a moment, lost in his thoughts and study of her. She was so amazing in so many ways, and for a minute he had trouble believing that she was really his, that she was really right there in his apartment with him, that she had kissed him so passionately. The kiss felt a little like a memory now and he couldn't fight the desire to experience it again. He didn't think that he would ever get enough of her kisses. He reached out, dropping a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. She smiled up at him, a real George smile, not the little smirk most people got, and he fell in love with her all over again. He swept her up into his arms, before descending on her mouth. He kissed her hungrily, like he was trying to devour her completely into himself so they would never have to be apart. He sighed softly into her lips as she wrapped her own arms around his neck, holding him just as close. They pulled apart for breath; even reapers had to breathe, and he smirked at her. There was just something about George that made him lose all control, like a horny teenager in the back seat of a car.

George breaths came in soft pants. She had no idea Rube could kiss like that. If she'd known, Trip would have never been an issue. Rube's kisses were addicting, like a drug, and she'd suddenly become a junky. She could barely get her breath, but all she wanted was to feel his lips on hers again. She looked up to find him watching her. There was a spark in his eyes, something heated and burning in his dark eyes, and she had put it there. It scared her a little, but the excitement of the moment and having him all to herself won over. He came toward her, his fingers, brushing under her hair, teasing the back of her neck, and slowly backed them toward his bed. She decided to take the initiative and began to unbutton his shirt, and sliding it off his shoulders to pool on the floor behind him.

His fingers skimmed the underside of her shirt, before pushing it up. She raised her arms dutifully and he pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor with his own. She looked wonderfully disheveled. He reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra with a quick motion, sliding it off to join the clothes pile they were making. He leaned in and kissed her again, the feel of her naked breasts against his chest, was driving him a little wild. She moaned into their kiss, and he knew she was feeling the same. It seemed to inflame them both and the rest of their clothes were discarded with as much haste as they could manage in their lustful state.

They hadn't said a word since entering his apartment, and they hadn't needed to. Everything that they wanted or felt was conveyed through touches and soft looks. Rube laid her gently on the bed, before covering her, with himself, keeping his weight on his elbows, so as not to crush her. In that moment, he realized how small she was physically, compared to him. Her personality made her seem so much bigger than she actually was and for a moment the difference was startling. He drew himself away from that thought and back to the matter at hand, which was to pleasurably consummate their love. He stroked a stray lock of hair away from her face, looking her in the eyes. His own were asking if she was sure, and a quick nod from her came the reply.

He kissed his way down from her lips, to her neck, tasting her skin, essence of George. He was already overexcited, but he had to taste everything about her. He loved the sound of her soft hums and little moans of delight when he found a particularly sensitive spot. He mapped his way down to her breasts, paying each one loving attention before moving lower. He brushed soft, tickling kisses over her abdomen, causing her to laugh a little breathlessly, before moving lower to her most intimate place. He looked up again, asking permission with his eyes. She looked confused for a moment before it dawned on her. He knew that no one had ever done this for her, so he waited patiently. She nodded, giving her ok, and he smiled, determined to make it wonderful for her. He pressed a soft kiss to her first, before allowing his tongue to dart out and taste her gently. She apparently enjoyed those first few touches, making soft noises he'd never thought to hear from her. He continued, enjoying her taste and her reactions equally, until he knew what pleased her the most, and she came with startling intensity, clutching at the bed sheets like a lifeline. He moved up and lay beside her, caressing the underside of her breast gently, allowing her to come back down from the high.

Her breath came in ragged pants, and she wasn't sure she'd ever felt anything as wonderful as that in her entire life. It was like tiny explosions of rapture had gone off in her whole body, starting with her center and radiating out. That definitely hadn't happened with Trip. She smiled up at Rube. She could tell he got some enjoyment from it as well, because he had a very satisfied look on his face and he was pressing insistently into her thigh. When she had her breathing under control, she pulled him in for another kiss, rubbing herself against him. He groaned into her mouth. At the rate they were going, he wasn't going to last long. When George threw a leg over him, he knew she was ready. He pushed her back gently and kept his eyes on hers as he slowly entered. When he was fully seated, they both sighed at the feeling. They stayed still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected in such an intimate way.

George was the first to give, bucking up against him lightly to get him to move. He thrust against her as slowly as he could, trying to prolong the moment for an eternity. Neither of them was going to last though, she was just as overexcited as he was. She reached up and hooked her arms around his shoulders, her nails leaving little indents and scratches on his back. He'd never felt such a wonderful sting. His thrust increased in tempo with her soft sighs and moans. And suddenly they were both spilling over the edge.

Later when both their hearts had stopped racing, George lay cuddled into him, her head in the crook of his neck. She was spooned so close to him, that for a brief moment he though she wanted to crawl in his skin with him. He loved the feeling. It was so wonderful, the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her, surrounding him, and caressing him. She hummed softly under her breath as he traced random patterns on her skin from her shoulder to her him.

The way her breathing was slowing, he could tell she was falling asleep. He on the other hand, was wide awake. His other concern, Rosie, was taking up residence in his mind. He needed to see her one last time before she was gone. He wondered if George would go with him, or if he should go alone. He knew Penny would be there. She was going to let him know when it was going to happen.

"George." He said softly.

"Hmm?" She answered, obviously slipping into dreamland.

"I need to ask you something."

"What?" He glanced at her. She had one eye half open, which meant she was slightly awake, and attempting to stay that way until he asked his question.

"Remember when I said I found Rosie?"

"Yeah."

"Well Penny, is going to give me a heads up, so to speak, and I want you to go with me."

"Of course I will." She was fully awake now, sitting up and looking down at him. "You never have to ask me to go anywhere with you, my answer will always be yes. I love you, Rube." He stared at her for a moment, wondering when she'd grown up and why hadn't he noticed it before.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 8

The heads up from Penny came a few days later. She stopped by Der Waffle Haus and silently handed Rube a post it. He took it and just stared at it. George, who had been stilling across from him, moved over to sit beside him. She hugged his arm but didn't say a word. In her new and grown up world with Rube, she realized that she didn't always have to talk. She also found that so long as she was with Rube that silences weren't as uncomfortable as previously anticipated. This saved her from saying something that she would inevitably regret, or cause some form of unintentional harm. It also saved her from her own sarcasm, which seemed to creep up at the more inopportune moments.

"Still want me to come along?" She asked after a few moments.

"Always." He answered softly. She nodded and stepped away to use the pay phone by the restrooms, calling Delores. She almost smiled over the other woman's happy tone, but couldn't find it in herself to let the emotion show on her face. Not even a smirk could be seen.

"Delores, its Millie. Something's come up. I'm not going to be able to make it in today." She said quietly. Delores, being the perceptive person she was, knew immediately that it was serious, and refrained from using her put out tone.

"Are you alright?" Delores asked.

"I'm fine. I'm needed outside of the city today. My friend Rube, a member of his family is in the hospital, and it doesn't look good. He wants me to go with him, for support."

"Isn't he your sponsor?" George rolled her eyes. Once again, Alcoholics Anonymous was coming back to bite her in the ass. She sighed softly.

"He is my sponsor, but he is also my friend, and well…." She trailed off unsure of what to say to Delores, or if she would even understand.

"I see." She paused. "When did that happen?"

"A few days ago."

"I'm happy for you. Tell Rube I'm sorry, and that I hope everything works out."

"Thanks Delores. You're a great friend." George was touched by the immediate understanding and non-judgmental attitude of her co-worker. She wasn't sure when it happened, but sometime between when she started at Happy Time and that moment, Delores Herbig had become a good friend, one that she was extremely happy to have.

George and Rube made their way to the hospice home just outside of the city. Penny was waiting for them. If she was surprised to see George as well, she didn't show it. She led them both to a bench where an old woman sat. Penny brushed a hand down her arm and left them to talk. George wasn't sure what to do with herself, so she just stood, watching, studying the scene before her. The woman had white hair, and her features were delicate, ever at her advanced age. She really didn't look like Rube, as far as George could tell, but her eyes were the same deep chocolate color of her father's.

Rosie, who had recognized Rube, smiled up at him, calling him 'Daddy'. Rube hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. George saw pure joy in the face of the woman. She wondered if she'd ever looked at her own father that way, or mother for that matter, but couldn't really remember ever feeling anything but apathy for either one of her parents.

"Peanut, I want you to meet someone." He gestured for her to come over. "This is Georgia."

"Hi, Rosie, its nice to meet you." Rosie just smiled and waved at her. It was like she had reverted back to the little girl, the one who had gone to sleep with her daddy watching over her, and awoken to his death. They were all quite for a little while. George layed her hand on his shoulder, as he held his daughter in her final moments of life. A lot could be said of George and her attitude, but even she knew when to be silent and let things be.

They stayed for another half an hour as Rosie slowly stopped breathing and went limp. George had no idea how to comfort the man who had so recently become her lover. She had never been very good at any sort of comfort, receiving or giving. She rubbed small circles with her thumb and hoped it was enough for him in his moment of desperate need.

When they left, they passed on returning to the waffle house knowing that the group wouldn't be able to hold their tongues, and neither one of them felt like talking to anyone. Instead they returned to Rube's apartment. He sat heavily in his chair and scrubbed his hands across his face. There was a deep resounding ache in his chest over the loss of his daughter was only tempered but only by the young woman sitting next to him on the arm of his chair. George wrapped her arms around hi shoulders and was holding him close to her chest. He was grateful for her presence, and her quiet acceptance. She brought him some small measure of peace.

That night, Rube lay in her arms, his head pillowed on her shoulder, breathing in her soft scent as if that was all her needed to live. George knew he wasn't asleep, she could feel his tears sliding hotly down his cheek to soak into her shirt. She reached around and ran her fingers through his hair trying to soothe him as best she could. She had a vague memory of her mother doing the same for her when she had been very small, before Reggie had been born. She felt him start to press kisses to her neck and sighed as his fingers caressed her side. He made love to her slowly and softly, and felt a deeper connection to him than she had felt to anyone in her life.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Careful Planning

Chapter 9

George and Rube came in to the restaurant together after he added the day's appointments to his planner. They sat next to each other at their usual table and waited for the others to arrive. Roxy was the first to arrive. She studied them for a moment.

"You two look like shit. What the hell did you do?"

"We were up all night." George answered for them both.

"Well I know that you weren't enjoying yourselves, otherwise you'd both be fucking happy."

"How would you know? We always look like this, and when are we ever happy?" George fired back.

"Rosie died yesterday." Rube said softly to end their bickering. He knew how much Roxy and George liked to pick at each other. With two very sarcastic women, it was inevitable that they should find some enjoyment in the banter.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"Thanks Roxy." He answered. Roxy turned her attention to the less obvious scene before her. She took in how close George was to Rube, and how both only had one hand resting on the table. Their shoulders brushed against one another with an ease and familiarity that said they were perfectly comfortable with one another on every level.

"When did this happen?" She pointed between the two.

"A few days ago." Rube answered. Roxy smiled, and let out a very un-Roxy-like chortle of glee.

"Man, that is so…. I don't know what. Am I the first to know?' Rube nodded but George shook her head, which caused Rube to look at her in question.

"Delores. I was supposed to work yesterday and had to call in." He nodded in acceptance. Just then Daisy and Mason strolled in, hand in hand. Roxy looked behind her and smirked at the two then shook her head.

"Looks like I'm that odd man out. Guess I'll have to find me someone hot and studly to keep up with the rest of you guys. Rube smiled softly at her and shook his head in exasperation. He waited until everyone was seated, and passed out post it notes to everyone. Daisy barely missed a beat, continuing to chatter away and dominating the conversation, which no one was trying to have. It was almost a relief when Rube was once again alone with George at their table. Daisy had flounced away with Mason in tow. He couldn't quite understand how that relationship worked, but it was no more of a mystery than his own with George. Roxy had merely smirked at them as she put on her hat and walked out the door. And then he was alone with her.

They finished their breakfast and George stood up to leave for her reap. Something she had seen in his planner made her stop and look back at him. She had really comprehended what it was she was seeing, but it was a piece of paper, rather than a post it, that much she knew. She briefly wondered what it said, but didn't make the connection that it could be anything other than a piece of paper.

"You'll be here when I get back, right?" She asked.

"Of course, sweetheart, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I love you, Rube."

"I love you too, George."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

"Good."

Rube smiled after her. She was such a spitfire and he knew that they would have their share of problems and arguments in the future, but he also knew that nothing would willingly take him away from her. And that was exactly what he was going to tell upper management when he saw them in a few short hours. He didn't care if his quota was filled, he was going to stay with her, and she would never have to know.

"Need anything else this morning, honey?" Kiffany asked, stopping by her favorite customer.

"No, Kiff. I'm absolutely perfect." He smiled up at her, before paying the bill and heading out the door. Kiffany stood looking after him and shook her head.

"Now that he's got someone to share the burden, he can't keep his feet on the ground."


End file.
